Legacy A Cassadine Tale
by KWAYERASPEN
Summary: Every family has a legacy. What do you do when that legacy is born of sin? For Spencer, Kristina and Molly that discovery will change their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Spencer Cassadine

Being a Cassadine was both a gift and a curse, especially if you were born with the title and expectations of being the prince of the clan. Spencer huffed. Like Nikolas Cassadine, his father, he shunned the title. He considered himself just an ordinary man, working hard to keep his family's businesses afloat.

Spencer smirked; maybe ordinary was pushing it a bit. He was 25 years old and running an empire that stretched across the world; there was nothing ordinary about that, nothing at all. In fact, that word never fit into the Cassadine vocabulary.

The Cassadine family had a reputation that legends were built upon. Those before him had left their mark upon civilization after civilization throughout the ages. The Cassadine history both Greek and Russian could be traced back thousands of years. There was even a tale, told to him by his father when he was a boy, of one of his Greek ancestors being a pirate, traveling the high seas. No proof of the tale was found in the family history books but he never doubted the story. Having a pirate in the family was, to him, far more exciting than the royalty of his Russian side.

The Aristocrats and the Barbarian, Cassadine and Andreadis, was how their initial relationship had begun. The two sides clashed in every way imaginable, over land, treasures, etc. but then they had come together through a mutual understanding and led to the union of the families. The current czar, a Cassadine, took a Greek as his czarina and they gave birth to the very first Mikkos Cassadine.

The name Mikkos was passed down through the generations to his great grandfather but there is where it stopped. Mikkos and Helena let the name die; oft times, he wondered why. No one he asked seemed to know or care. Mikkos was a tyrant according to his father and his great aunt, Alexis Davis; Helena was no better. It was these two who kept the violent nature, also associated with the Cassadine name, alive.

For him growing up, Mikkos and Helena were the "monsters under the bed" children feared when the lights went out. He no longer saw them that way, not just because they were gone, but because he was no longer a child. Mikkos had died long before he was born; Helena just after.

Helena had kidnapped him when he was a baby, bent on molding him in the image of Mikkos but his father had tracked her down. He bravely fought to get him back and to protect him thereafter. He did so by instilling not only strength and knowledge in him but kindness and honesty as well. It was those values that helped him step confidently into his father's shoes without worry that he might fall victim to Mikkos and Helena's legacy.

Spencer sat behind the desk in his study, looking very much like his father had. His black hair, cut short and neatly trimmed, swept back from his forehead. His face was shaped like Nikolas's with its square chin and lean jaw line. He had the same full, dark brows and his father's nose. He was taller than his father, at 6' 2"and just as athletic. As for his eyes; however, they where blue like his mother's, who he'd never had the chance to know.

He tapped the slim gold pin in his hand on the edge of the desk, pondering why he was thinking so much about his family today, especially his great grandparents. There were contracts that need to be reviewed and projects that needed follow up but he could concentrate on neither. Impatient with himself, he tossed the pin on top of the files and rose. Maybe what he needed was a short break; a short stroll around Spoon island to clear his head. That wasn't the answer to his the barrage of thoughts distracting him from his duties; the answer was across the room.

He walked over to the coffee table, where the 4 x 4 box lie. He'd found the box waiting for him at the gate when he arrived home earlier. It bore no shipping label to tell him from where and from whom it had come. The contents were still yet unknown because for reasons unknown, he could not bring himself to open it. Strange unmarked a packages did not tend to find their way on the island. And stranger than that was the fact that the surveillance video showed no one coming onto the island or leaving it. It was the air of mystery surrounding the box that had him thinking of his family; taking the mental trip through the Cassadine history.

He frowned. This was ridiculous. He wasn't going to get any work done as long as he stewed over what was inside the box. He took a seat on the dark brown leather sofa and leaned forward, putting his ear close to it. No ticking… that was a good sign. He almost, almost laughed at himself.

"What are you doing?"

Spencer looked up from the box and into the face of Lila Quartermaine, affectionately named after the matriarch of the Quartermaine family. He smiled at her. "Trying to solve a mystery", he answered and was treated to that devastatingly beautiful smile of hers.

Lila had one of those faces that a man would never forget seeing, with its heart shape, doe eyes of gray and small, slightly pouty lips. She was 5'6", with the slim frame and mane of hair that was caught between her mother, Skye Quartermaine's red hair and her father, Lorenzo Alcazar's dark chestnut hair. The town of Port Charles was alive with gossip when the Quartermaine, wild child became tied to the Spanish mobster, who plunged the town into a hellish nightmare with his war with Sonny Corinthos over control of the waterfront and mob relations in Puerto Rico.

Lila tucked a strand of her red-brown hair behind her ear. "Don't let me interrupt you".

He patted the sofa beside him, her sudden appearance not bothering him one bit. She'd been popping up on the island, since they were kids. He, Lila, Molly and Kristina had spent a large portion of their childhood running around Spoon Island. "I found this waiting for me when I arrived home", he explained after she'd taken a seat beside him. "I've been mulling over whether I should open it or not".

"Who is it from?" she asked him.

"I've no idea".

Lila touched a finger to her unpainted lips, "Hmm….this is a mystery, isn't it? Who sent Mr. Cassadine the package? What's inside? Shall we guess or shall we see?" She wiggled her brows then leaned forward.

She reached for package but he caught her hand in his before she could touch it. It was small and delicate, warm, engulfed inside his. "Don't", he told her.

"Spencer, are you afraid of what might be in there?"

He looked at her. Gray eyes looked back at him, filled with worry. Was he? "Just leery that's all. One can never to be careful, Lila Rae", he said.

She flushed. It was so easy to forget at times, the position he was in. He was a prince, heir to an empire. Of course there were people who might try to hurt him. She felt foolish for making a joke out it. "You're right, I'm sorry".

"You don't have to apologize. I should have thought better than to bring it inside in the first place". He was still holding her hand and he caressed the back of it with his thumb. "I'm going to open it but before I do, you should leave".

"I wouldn't be much of a friend if I cut and ran", she told him. "Go ahead, open it".

"Lila".

Her mouth set into a thin, stubborn line. "I'm not going anywhere. Open it".

He released her hand rather reluctantly….something else to ponder, another day. He tore away the seal and opened the box slowly. He reached inside and came out with a case, small and black. He lifted the lid and saw what was inside. It was ring, a ruby ring. Slowly he exhaled and heard Lila do the same. "It's a ring". He did laugh then, softly. "It's a ring".

"It's incredible", Lila said.

It was large with a thick silver, no, platinum band, that had intricate designs carved into it, the ruby sat, large and dark, in the middle of the setting. He took it from its case and held it up. That was when he noticed the engraved initials inside the band, "M. C.", he read out loud.

"M. C.?"

Spencer's brows knitted together. "Mikkos Cassadine. This ring belonged to my great grandfather". Who, he wondered, had saw fit to send it to him. Leeriness returned, he replaced the ring, closed the case and tossed it carelessly back in the box. "Well, now that that's over, I can go for that walk I planned. Care to join me, Lila Rae?"

She looked at him. How could he, after all that, act so different to receiving a family heirloom such as that. Because he was Spencer, he had possessed this switch inside him that he could turn off and on at will. It made him hard to gauge but she supposed that was what made him so successful in business. "Sure. I like Spoon Island in the spring. It'll have to be a short walk though. I have to get back to Port Charles for a dinner date".

"A date, huh?" He asked casually but his teeth clenched slightly. It bothered him, he realized then he reminded himself that they were just friends. She dated; they both did. He had no right to be….jealous. He went rigid at that thought. He was jealous of the man who'd be spending his evening with Lila.

"Yeah", she replied. She didn't notice that he had stiffened a bit. "I'd planned to spend the evening at home and curled up with a good book but Molly talked me into dining with her".

"Molly?" The pressure that had built in his chest eased. She was having dinner with his cousin. "When did she get back in town?"

She shrugged, "Yesterday, I believe. She called me this morning. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you joined us".

"I can't but thanks for the invitation". He stood and held out his hand to her. "Come, let's have our short walk".

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "We'll take a longer one the next time I come. I'll call ahead first", she said. "In case you're busy'. She smiled again.

He kissed her hand before thinking the action through. "You're welcomed to come here any time you like Lila Rae".

The feel of his lips on her hand made her stomach flutter or maybe it was the way he'd just said her name. "I, ah, I appreciate that".

He released her hand once again. "We'd better get to it then. I don't want to make you late for dinner". He led her to the door. Yes, he definitely had to figure out what was going on inside him as far as Lila was concerned. But that wasn't all. He glanced back at the box. He also had to figure out who spent him his grandfather's ring and why?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Kristina Davis

Kristina considered herself a patient woman; lord knows that wasn't an inherited personality trait. With Corinthos and Cassadine blood pumping through her veins she had more than her fair share of temperament. The patience she prided herself in having was starting to wear thing and her temperament was threatening to bubble to the surface. Both were because of the woman sitting across from her. "Mrs. Rowland, if you are having second thoughts about your case, tell me now". Court was tomorrow and she did not want her client to change her mind in the middle of the hearing.

"I'm not changing my mind", Mrs. Rowlands said. "It's just. I don't know how Peter and I got here". She shook her head. "I thought we were happy. I don't understand it".

Kristina resisted the urge to rub the spot, on the side of her head, where a headache was beginning to form. They had gone over this conversation countless times, yet here she was again. She'd entered the reception area and found her waiting, unexpectedly. "I know this is difficult for you, Maryann. You feel like you've failed but you didn't. You didn't do anything to desire what he did to you. You were a good wife. He is a bad husband".

"He said he was sorry", she countered. "And that he doesn't want to lose me; that is why he is contesting the divorce".

Kristina bit back the harsh retort that was on her tongue. "You told me that he's said that before", she said softly. "But he did it again Maryann. He cheated on you for the third time and you're fed up with it. That is why you sought me out".

"I know", Mrs. Rowlands said weakly. "I know".

"I'm not one to push anyone into doing something that they do not want to do, so you say the word and I'll call to drop the case". It was, she thought, a mistake but it wasn't hers to make.

"You'd do that, after all your hard work?"

"If it's what you want". She waited for her reply.

"I have to take back control of my life. I've let Peter have it for far too long. He isn't going to change. He doesn't want to, does he?" She shook her head, "Don't answer that, I already know he isn't. Oh, he will change for a while but then some, woman, much younger than I, will catch his eye again. I cannot live like that any longer". She got to her feet slowly, "I'm going through with the divorce".

Soon as Mrs. Rowlands left, she took the bottle of Tylenol out of her desk and popped two in her mouth. Being a divorce lawyer gave her a first hand look at just how ugly a business divorce could be. It left her wondering why people bothered with getting married in the first place. Her mother had done so with Rick Lansing and look where that had gotten her. Her father had done so, numerous times, three of those times to Michael's mother, and look where it had gotten him. There were fights, adultery and custody battles, which left behind scars unhealed. She closed the file and pushed it aside. Marriage, she decided, was an unnecessary evil and it was a road that she would never travel down

She checked her watch. Her next meeting was in less than an hour and it was across town. She rose, went the closet in her office and opened the door. She stood in the full length mirror, smoothed down the front of her suit and took a long hard look at herself. Her hair fell past her shoulders, a cloud of dark waves. Eyes, bright brown with flecks of gold, holding intelligence and a sense of maturity beyond her 26 years, stared back at her. Always, her skin had that look, as if it had been kissed by the sun. She was a slender woman, but she was far from a waif. Her body was fit and curved in all the appropriate places. As her father had often told her, she looked like her grandmother with an exception or two here and there, thanks to her Cassadine side.

Sometimes it amused her to think of the odd mix pumping through her veins, Russian, Greek and Latin, come together. Then there were those other times, when she thought about the rest of the picture and it wasn't so amusing. Neither Corinthos nor Cassadine had the most admirable history, especially in Port Charles. If not for the reputation that her mother built under the name Davis, she would have had no chance to get out from underneath the weight of those two names. There were those, who still looked at her as Sonny Corinthos's daughter or a descendant of the wicked Helena Cassadine but they were few.

Kristina did not let people like that bother her, not any more. Her hide was thicker than that now and as thick as her cousin Spencer's, who always held his head high, no matter what people said about his family. He, unlike she, had no name he could use to detach himself from the Cassadine and he was straddled with the responsibility of stepping into his father's shoes as the head of the clan.

She closed the closet door. She should call Spencer to see how he was doing. They had a habit of letting too much time pass between talks; Molly too, for that matter, she reminded herself thinking that she had not heard from her little sister in over a week. She sighed, she'd make a note to call the both of them after she closed the Rowlands case, maybe she'd invite them both over for dinner, have one last celebration before she sold the mansion. She checked her watch for the third time. The realtor should be on his way there. She had better get going if she hoped to meet him on time.

--

It was a warm, sunny afternoon in Port Charles; too perfect a day to be cooped up indoors, even for a bite to eat. He took his order, a turkey and cheese on rye and chose one of the small, round wooden tables outside of Kelly's. He removed his suite jacket and draped it over the back of the empty seat beside him before sitting down. As he sat, he noticed that he wasn't the only customer making use of the outdoor seating. A few feet away an older woman sat, sipping an iced tea while flipping through a file. She glanced at him briefly and he nodded his head in greeting then her attention returned to whatever it was that she was reading.

He removed his shades from the pocket of his suit jacket, slipped them on then opened the newspaper he'd brought with him. Automatically, he went to the financial section first, once he'd finished he moved on to read other news. He turned the page and there on the society page was his mother Julia Santos-Keefer and his aunt Maria Santos-Grey, along with announcement that they had donated a new wing to Pine Valley Hospital. The wing, he read, would be in dedication to his father, Noah Keefer and his uncle Edmund Grey, both of whom died through acts of violence. At the end of the article was a small picture of each man and a captioned statement from his mother and his aunt. He stared at his father photo. He looked a lot like him; he knew that but at sometimes it hit him harder than others.

He'd gotten to spend so very little time with his father, having lost him so young but he remembered moments with him. The one that always came to mind was when he'd taken him out early one morning, drove him to the beach, walked him out onto the sand and asked him, "What do you see?"

He'd shrugged. All he saw was sand and water, so that was his answer. His father looked down at him and smiled then took the camera he had around his neck and handed it to him. "Look through this", he'd told him. He did what his father said. "Now what do you see?" He leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Do you see the way the sky and water meet on the horizon? Do you see the way the waves rise, one after the other, in harmony with one another?" He focused his attention, as his father continued to paint a picture in his young mind, and he could see it. Then Noah had revealed a truth to him; one he made him promise to keep secret and when the time came, to uphold. From that moment on, he looked at everything differently.

For years he carried around this secret, while he watched his mother struggle to understand why his father had been taken away from her, so suddenly, so violently. There was an underline feeling of guilt in that but that changed nothing. The secret and the burden of his father's true life were his to carry.

He rubbed his hand over his face. His mother had told him about the hospital wing, the last time they had spoken but she neglected to mention that she'd be making a dedication to his father. He'd known that she was holding back something from him but he hadn't pressed her to spill it. She should have at least called him before it hit the paper. Wait, she had called him, yesterday but he had missed her call and was too busy to call her back. The ceremony was in a few days, he'd make certain that he was there.

Noel turned his attention from the paper he was reading and caught sight of the woman heading full speed in his direction; his pulse jumped. Her hair was a mass of black waves that fell to her shoulders; it bounced a little with each step she took. She was rummaging through her purse as she walking, head was down, so he could not see the color of her eyes but he took a gamble and guessed that they were probably dark, and exotic. She wore a navy pinstriped suit that consisted of a jacket and knee length skirt; the suit fit as if it had been made specifically for her body. He never knew a business suit could have such appeal. Who was he kidding; it wasn't the suit, it was the woman packed into it. He removed his shades, placing them beside the paper. Without thinking, he rose when she reached his table; stepped out into her path.

--

Kristina's meeting with the realtor had gone well. The decision to sell her father's mansion was not definite but she was giving it considerable thought. She had been thinking about selling it for quite some time now. He seemed very positive about finding a buyer once he listed the property on the market but she told him to hold off, no longer as eager as she was earlier. Greystone was a beautiful home, too big for one person to live in, but it was her father's wish that it be hers, so he had willed to her. Selling it was a decision she was truly yet to make. Then there was Michael and Morgan to consider. Maybe, she should give one of them the opportunity to take over residence. She had lots to consider, lots to do but she wasn't going to do either on an empty stomach.

She neglected to eat that morning and she needed fuel, so she had made a beeline straight for Kelly's. Lunch would be a late one for her, a sandwich to be eaten at her desk while she prepared to for court in the morning. That did not concern her, she ate at her desk often enough.

One minute she was walking, lost in her own thoughts and rummaging through her purse for the twenty dollar bill she'd stuffed in it, the next, she hit a brick wall. At least that was what it felt like, but it wasn't. Momentarily stunned by the sudden collision, Kristina found herself staring at an expensive dark tie. As she regained her faculties, she realized that the wall was actually a man. Annoyed, she lifted her head prepared to verbally cut the idiot to shreds for not watching his step but the words died on her lips. Yes, he was definitely a man, a very handsome man, African-American with smooth light brown skin, no tan. His complexion was tan, leaning towards brown, and his eyes were the color of whiskey. Her stomach fluttered at the tug of instant attraction hit her. Surprised she sucked in an involuntary breath. She would have stepped back then but the hand on her arm, his hand, prevented her from doing so.

He was shocked right down to the bone, when he realized who she was. It fascinated him to watch her eyes go from brown to dark chocolate to nearly black in a matter of seconds. In them, he saw both intelligence and strength. Her face was a masterpiece with its combination of features, a small straight nose, a small square chin and a full wide set mouth that sent a bevy of erotic thought swirling through his mind.

Her photo had knocked him for a loop but up close and personal, she ripped into him. Not having expected to bump into her at Kelly's, he hadn't to chance to steel himself against this kind of primal reaction that she incited. He needed to get a grip. Lust, had no place here. He told himself to let her go; his hand tightened on her arm.

There they stood staring at each other.

Finally regaining her composure, Kristina wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "Do you make a habit of manhandling strange women?" Her arm tingled were he had gripped it.

Noel took a step back. He hadn't come close to manhandling her, but oh how he wanted to, when the urge to taste her mouth had filled him. "My apologies, I was merely trying to steady you".

"I appreciate that but what I'd appreciate more is if you'd be more careful where you walk, excuse me". She stepped around him and walked, briskly through the door to Kelly's.

He watched her, the woman looked as good going as she had coming. He needed to leave, right now, before his perspective became even more skewed. He was in Port Charles on business, he reminded himself, and Kristina Davis was a part of that business. The next time they met, he would be in complete control. Sandwich long since forgotten, he scooped up his jacket, put his shades on again and hurried off.

--

Kristina's conviction to her sentiments about marriage were reaffirmed after spending the last hours of her day pouring over her case for tomorrow. She closed the office just after six and made her way to her car with the documents she needed for her case, tucked away in her briefcase. She'd go over them again, just once more when she got home then she'd relax with a nice glass of wine and some music.

As she drove home, she could already tasted the pungent favor of the red Pinot Noir on her tongue, could already hear the slow sultry sounds of Billie Holiday coming from her CD player. With the surround sound she had installed, Billie's voice would echo off the walls.

The music and the wine would help her settle her restless mind, which was especially churning this evening. She wished she could blame all of her restlessness on her workload but that was only a part of what was swimming around in her head. He, the man outside of Kelly's, was in there also. He, with his exceptionally handsome face, had managed to invade her thoughts, to the point that the sandwich she'd purchased went half eaten.

She scowled, "You've met handsome men before Kristina". That was true but none had pulled that kind of reaction out of her, that combination of attraction and fear. Part of her had wanted to step closer and part of her had wanted to run.

She parked her car and climbed out of it. What was wrong with her? He was just a man, a man; that was all. She reached into her purse, took out her house key and pushed it into the lock, as she opened the door, her foot kicked something and she looked down. In front of the door was a 4 x 4 box.

She bent down and retrieved it. On top was her name and nothing more; no senders name or address. She tucked it under her arm and entered the house, heading through the foyer and into the living room. She set the box and her briefcase on the black leather chair then toed off her shoes and turned on the music.

She hummed the lyrics as she went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Returning to the living room, she curled up on the sofa, took a sip of wine and closed her eyes as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Her eyes opened slowly and went to the box. A tiny voice inside her told her to ignore it but she was already on her feet again going to it.

What was inside? She set the glass down on the coffee table and pick up the box, shook it. Unable to resist, she peeled away the seal and opened it. Inside the box was a small, black velvet case. She lifted the lid. The large, dark, ruby winked out at her. It was set inside a platinum bracelet that was decorated with beautifully craved designs. She removed the bracelet from its case. It was exquisite. Who sent it she wondered? She turned the bracelet over and on the back where the initials M.C.

She flipped through her mental database attempting to place the initials but came up empty. "You're tired Kristina and you already have too much inside her head". She replaced the brooch, closed the case and sat it on the coffee table and picked up her glass once more. She swayed to Billie's voice while she drank the contents. She took the glass back to the kitchen, rinsed it, dried it and put it away. She was half way back to the living room when it hit her. M.C. stood for Mikkos Cassadine.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Molly Lansing

Like her sister, Molly was the product of a mix of heritages. Cassadine blood also pumped through her veins, thanks to her mother and but instead of Corinthos blood her other roots came from her father, Rick Lansing, half-brother of Sonny Corinthos, Kristina's father. The two men were sons of the same mother. It was a complicated situation growing up but she never wasted too much time dwelling on. And if anyone else attempted to bring it into a conversation without her consent, she cut them off with her quick sharp tongue.

Her family's business was just that, hers. She learned to accept the situation for what it was. It hadn't been easy on she and Kristina growing up in Port Charles, amid the gossip and the whispers about Sonny Corinthos and Rick Lansing; brothers who hated each other and were loved by the same woman. There was other talk as well about Sonny and the mob, about her father, Rick, using his position as D.A. to commit unlawful acts, supposedly in the name of justice.

She had lots of questions about these things that she'd asked her mother; some questions were answered, while some were avoided. As she got older she figured those questions out for herself. Once she learned the entire truth about her father, his relationship with Sonny, her mother and this town, she was able to tuck it away and go on with her life.

She was 24 years old, living the life that most girls dream of. Her face, the face of Deception Cosmetics, was internationally known. And when Deception had created their own fashion magazine, new doors had opened for her. She got to travel to amazing locations for photo shoots and walk the catwalk in some of the most beautiful places in the world. Molly Lansing was fast becoming a household name.

She examined herself in the bathroom mirror; skin, flawless and slightly pale, glowed to her satisfaction. Hair, raven colored, fell long and straight, resting on her shoulders. She'd just had it cut last week at the suggestion of her boss, former model, Lily Winters. She had to admit, it looked much better at that length, framing her narrow face, with its small nose and Cupid's bow mouth, perfectly and made her eyes look larger. Her eyes, bright brown like her sisters, showed no signs of fatigue. That did not surprise her. She was a high energy individual, so late night arrivals and early morning photo sessions rarely fazed her.

She landed in Port Charles at about 2am, was up at 8 am and in the studio for back to back sessions. There was an hour break between shoots, which she used to call Lila and invite her to dinner. Once she'd finished shooting, she was summoned, unexpectedly, to meet with Ms. Winters. She didn't turn the key in the door to Penthouse 3 again until 4 o'clock. Now, she was getting ready to meet Lila.

Molly dabbed a little gloss on her lips, adding shine to the pale lipstick she wore. She played with different shadows for her eyes, also pale colors, making them seem brighter without being overly done. She nodded her head in approval at the outcome. In her bedroom, she went through her selection of jewelry, trying to decide if she should go with just diamond studs in her ears or if she should put on larger pieces; with the simple black dress she wore, she could go either way.

Her hand touched the flat velvet case, sitting beside her jewelry box. A box, 4 x 4 in size had been waiting for her at the front desk when she returned from the studio. She had asked the concierge who had delivered it but he saw no one. He told her that he stepped away for just a moment and when he returned to his desk, the package was there.

A top the box was nothing more than her name. She almost refused the box but she ended up taking it. No sooner than she entered her penthouse, she opened it and found the velvet case inside. Instead of opening the case, she had set it down and went about showering and changing her clothes for dinner.

She tapped her finger against the case. She had wondered over the contents while she dressed. She ceased her tapped and lifted the lid. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the necklace. The necklace itself was a wide band of platinum that when worn would sit flat against the skin, on it were designs, crafted beautifully. The necklace held a pendant with a ruby, darkly rich in coloring, at its center.

Molly removed it from the case. It was lighter in weight then she expected it to be and it was magnificent. She was speechless. Who had sent her such a gift? She'd gotten gifts from fans and from secret admirers before but none topped this.

She placed the necklace against herself, contemplating wearing it to dinner. She shook her head, maybe she should save it for another night, an extravagant night, like an awards shows or the launch party Deception was having for their new campaign.

She rubbed her thumb over the ruby pendant then on impulse, she turned it over. The initials M.C. were engraved on the back. She smirked, who ever the person was who sent it, had it engraved incorrectly. "M.L.", she said, "my initials are M.L." She tossed the necklace back in the case, deciding that the diamond studs would be enough after all.

The Haunted Star was sat docked at Pier 13. The old casino sat abandoned for years, after Luke Spencer had closed the business and the Spencer family, left Port Charles. The town was all a buzz as rumors surfaced regarding the place being purchased. Soon, contractors appeared and began renovated the ship, restoring it to its former glory. And a few weeks ago, it was re-opened, no only as a casino but also as a restaurant.

Having been out of town for the past month, Molly hadn't the chance to see the Haunted Star, so when Lila suggested they dine there, she agreed without hesitation. She parked her car in the lot and made her way down the wooden steps to the pier. It was 7 o'clock in the evening, the last remnants of sun where disappearing and the lights on the ship glowed brightly. Funny, with the glow of lights it looked more haunted then it had when it was abandoned.

The inside of looked absolutely amazing. Whoever decided on the décor had a good eye for detail. The low lights and dark interior was warm and inviting. It spoke of elegance and, if you were looking for it, romance.

"May I help you?"

Molly offered the hostess a friendly smile. "I'm here to meet my friend for dinner". She pointed to Lila, "That's her sitting at the bar".

The hostess nodded, "Yes, Ms. Quartermaine did mention she was waiting for her dinner companion to arrive. Please follow me". She escorted Molly to a table then made her way to the bar to inform Lila.

"Wow, Mol, you looked great".

"Thanks". Mol rose and the two embraced. "So do you".

Lila released her and sat. "Tell me everything about your trip".

Molly had taken her seat again. "There isn't much to tell", she answered.

"You spend a month in Paris and you have nothing to tell about the experience".

"There was work, lots of work", Molly told her.

"Come on Mol. I've been to Paris myself and there is definitely more to do there than work", Lila said.

Molly shrugged, "I shopped", she said then she sipped from the glass of water on the table to keep from laughing.

"I am going to hurt you Mol", Lila warned as the waiter approached.

Molly waited until their orders were taken and they were alone again. "I went on date".

Lila raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"He wasn't interested in getting to know me, he wanted to know Molly Lansing, model". She shrugged for the second time, "Its okay though, he was dull, not worth my time any how. What's been going on with you?" She asked wanting to change the direction of the conversation.

Lila thought about Spencer kissing her hand, "Me? Not much".

Their food arrived and they ate in silence for a moment. Lila looked across the table and saw that Molly was frowning. This wasn't the first time she'd mention being treated as if she wasn't a real person. "Sorry Mol".

"Don't be. I'm use to it. People don't want to take the time to look past the face on the magazine. They want a fantasy. They think I am a fantasy". She stabbed her salad with her fork. She started to tell her about the necklace with its wrong initials. The necklace was the perfect example, but she stopped, thinking that she was sounding as if she was feeling sorry herself. And she never, ever felt sorry for herself. "That's to be expected. I deal with it".

Yes, Lila thought, she dealt with it by pulling the mask tighter, instead of removing it, like she was doing right now. "You think its all them?"

Molly's fork paused on its way to her mouth. "What kind of question is that?"

Lila sighed, "Never mind".

Molly dropped her fork into her salad, "No, please continue".

"You hide Mol, you think you don't but you do. How can a person get to know you, if you won't show them who you really are?"

Molly huffed, "Oh that's rich coming from you. Are you still pretending to be Spencer's friend or have you told him how you feel about him?" She saw Lila pale and instantly regretted what she said. "That was low, I'm sorry".

Lila lifted her wine glass, "Checkmate". She emptied it in one gulp. "I've got go, I have an early meeting at ELQ". She rose.

"Lila wait", Molly got to her feet. "That was wrong of me".

"It really was, but don't worry Mol, I'm going to stick you with the check. The dinner is on the house, I own the place".

She walked away and left Molly standing there feeling like an ass. Molly ran a hand through her hair. She hurt her friend and that didn't sit well with her. She'd have to do something to make it up to Lila.

During the walk back to her car she ripped into herself again for being so callous about Lila's feelings toward Spencer. Lila had shared that information with her because they were best friends and she threw it in her face. It was, she admitted now that she was alone, because Lila had hit a nerve. She retaliated by going straight for the jugular. She'd blame it on heredity but that would be lame.

The parking lot was deserted except for her car and one other. She hurried, heels clicking quickly against the asphalt. She went over a million different ways to she could have handling the conversation with Lila. She reached the car in a few strides.

"Molly Lansing".

She jumped at the sound of her name being called. She turned, hand in her purse; ready to use her mace. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you following me?"

Gabe Medina kept a save distance from her, "No".

"So you just happen to be in Port Charles".

"No, I'm here to cover the upcoming Deception event".

"Do all French reporters make a habit of flying across the country to cover a party?"

"I said I was a reporter. I never said I was from Paris. You assumed I was. I reside in the States, in Llanview, Pennsylvania to be exact. My family lives there by way of Argentina".

Molly eyed him; that explained the accent. She hadn't thought it was French but she hadn't been able to place it. "I don't give a rat's ass where you are from but I do care that you are sneaking up on me in dark parking lots".

"I happened to see you Molly, that's all".

She glared, "I guess it's too bad I don't have a date with me, so you can pop out and ruin it".

He laughed at that, "I did you a favor in Paris. That guy was boring you to tears and besides, he jumped at the chance to be photographed with you. Damn near pushed you aside".

He was right, he was so right about that. It only served to piss her off. She took her hand off of the mace and pulled out her keys, pressed the lock release. "You're an asshole".

"So you've said before".

She let out a frustrated breath, slung open her car door, climbed in and slammed it shut. She started the engine. She jumped again when he knocked on the window. She looked up into his face. God! Why did she have to find him attractive? She had from their first encounter. She rolled down the window. "What?"

"Does this mean I still can't get that exclusive interview?" Eyes almost as black as his hair, looked back at her, laughter in them.

She smiled sweetly then step on the gas pedal, forcing him to jump back as she sped off.

He watched her car as it rounded the corner. Molly Lansing presented him with a challenge but he refused to be deterred. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed speed dial number two. "Yeah, it's me. I'm in Port Charles". He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "It's taking longer than I thought but I'm working on it. If Molly Lansing knows anything, I'll find out, don't worry".


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Mr. Cassadine, your 10 o'clock has arrived. Mr. Cassadine?" Spencer's assistant knocked softly on the open office door again. "Mr. Cassadine?" She frowned as he continued to stare out the window. She knocked a little harder.

Spencer turned slowly, looking at her. "Yes, Kate".

"Your 10 o'clock meeting has arrived".

"Okay, give me a minute. I'll buzz you when I'm ready".

She remained in the doorway, "Are you alright?" She'd known Spencer since he was boy. Nikolas would bring him into the office and he'd always manage to make his way to her; that was because he knew she had a stash of goodies, she kept just for him. Now, he was running Cassadine Industries. Every time she stepped into this office and saw him sitting behind his father's former desk, she felt like a proud parent.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because, I've been knocking and calling your name for some time", she answered.

"I seem to be a bit preoccupied this morning. Please, tell Ms. Nosova I'll be with her shortly". He waited for her to leave then he turned back to the window. He had one of the best views of downtown Port Charles but as he looked out over it, he saw none of it.

He was, what he claimed, preoccupied with the events from the evening passed. The sudden appearance of a family heirloom and his feelings for Lila Quartermaine plagued his mind through the night and into this morning. Discovering that his care for Lila was shifting into another direction had caught him off guard. They had been friends for a long time, never once in that time had either crossed any lines that would suggest that they try their hand at being anything more. They were buddies, pals, they played together, went to school together, grew into adulthood together. That, he thought, was the key. She had grown up into this extraordinarily beautiful, intelligent woman and that fact had not gone unnoticed by him. He needed to figure out how he was going to handle these feelings toward her.

Mikkos's ring was another story altogether and disturbing. It wasn't that he was now in possession of it. He had many family heirlooms stored away or on display at Wyndemere. What bothered him was that upon checking the family archive, this particular piece had no record and the way in which he had acquired it. He was too well versed in Cassadine history to dismiss his misgivings as paranoia; something was in the wind and he'd no doubt he would find out what it was soon enough.

He turned away from the window. There were other matters that demanded his attention, so he best get to them. He straightened his tie then he buzzed Kate. When she escorted Erin Nosova into his office, he was behind his desk; the perfect picture of a man ready to get down to business.

Erin Nosova looked as ready as he to do business. She was dressed in a tailored suit of beige color. Her hair, so blonde that it almost looked white, was pulled back, away from her face, which was dominated by large, green eyes. He wouldn't say she was pretty, but the angles and plains of her face, coupled with those eyes made her intriguing. She was a statuesque woman; tall and graceful with an air of dignity belonging to a woman who knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.

Erin Nosova had contacted him a few days ago regarding a conflict of interest between Cassadine Industries and one Mr. Mikhail Krupin. It seemed that Cassadine Industries had acquired the rights to dig on a strip of land in the Ural Mountains that belonged to Mr. Krupin. Spencer had been assured that the land was unclaimed then he received her call.

He rose, shook her hand and offered her a seat. "I have to say, I was hoping that Mr. Krupin would have been able to join this meeting".

"Mr. Krupin had other business to attend to. He has stated his position and has given me authority to execute that position". She reached into her briefcase and removed a document. "This, Mr. Cassadine, is an order to cease all mining activity. You are to immediately remove your equipment and employees from the land". She passed the document to him, "As you can see, we are well within our rights to demand this order be adhered to", she said as he read over the papers.

Spencer sat the document down, "Mr. Krupin's holdings on that land were not made aware to me. I went through the proper channels to get the necessary permits to excavate. Why is this just now being brought forth?"

"Obviously, someone did not do their job. However, the land is his and he does not wish it to be disturbed".

"There has to be some room to negotiate here. Mr. Krupin is sitting on a piece of land that contains precious minerals. There is profit to be gained by digging those minerals, selling them. Cassadine has the resources required to dig that land. Mr. Krupin would be generously compensated for allowing us to mine".

"Mr. Krupin is well aware of the possible financial gains in allowing the land to be mined but he made it clear to me that he wishes that area to remain untouched, no exceptions. You will have to vacate Mr. Cassadine, immediately". She shut her briefcase and rose.

"I'll comply with this order but I would like to arrange a meeting with Mr. Krupin, discuss this further".

"I will speak with him but I doubt that he feels there is anything left to say. Have a good day Mr. Cassadine". She extended her hand.

Spencer rose, took it, "You as well Ms. Nosova. I look forward to the opportunity to meet with Mr. Krupin". He walked her to the door, shook her hand once more then closed the door behind her. He returned to his desk, scratched his chin as he sat, thinking. Was Mikhail Krupin a practicing conservationist, wanting to preserve the beauty of the land, or was he merely a shrewd businessman trying to hold out to see just how much he can profit from Cassadine's interest in mining in his land. Their meeting would prove to be quite interesting either way.

--

Erin strolled down the hall, passed through the outer office, which was currently empty. She pushed the button for the elevator. Once she was safely inside, she took out her cell phone and dial Mikhail Krupin. "It is done. Spencer Cassadine will comply with the order". She paused for a moment. "That was close Mikhail, far too close".

"I know. Do not let this bother you Erin; it has changed nothing".

"He wants to meet with you himself", she said quickly. "I do not think he will take no for an answer".

"Tell him that I am out of town but I will gladly speak with him when I return".

"You cannot be serious Mikhail. We are in a crucial stage right now. We have to be extra cautious. As it stands, we have had to make contact with the Cassadines before it was time", she told him.

"Yes, that is most unfortunate but what is done is done. Wait a day or two, contact Spencer Cassadine and rely my message. That should hold him off long enough for me to do what is necessary".

"Do you think it was a coincidence that he showed a sudden interest in that particular area?" She asked.

"He does not know Erin; no one outside our organization knows what is truly beneath that land", he said confidently. "Now I am going to go see to it that he clears out then I will begin the extraction. In the meantime, you keep an eye on the Cassandines and those stones. I want all the pieces in place when I return to Port Charles. When I do, Mr. Cassadine will have to meeting he desires but it will not be the meeting he expects".

--

"I didn't think I would feel like this".

"Like what Mrs. Rowlands?" Kristina asked as the town women walked down the hall, away from courtroom 3B".

Mrs. Rowlands stopped her with a hand on her arm, "Free", she said then she threw her arms around Kristina and hugged her. "Thank you. Thank you so much".

Kristina hugged her back, "I didn't do anything Mrs. Rowlands; it was you". She stepped back resisting the urge to smooth down the front of her charcoal gray suit. "You had the courage to say enough was enough". That courage had almost faltered yesterday but today Maryann Rowlands had been strong. She stood her ground against her now ex-husband who had gone from pleading with her not to go through with the divorce to trying to shred her to pieces.

Kristina wanted to slap him when, after losing, he had ranted at her client, blaming her for his inability to be faithful; calling her frigid and no longer appealing to the eye. He told her that she'd never find anyone else to put with her. She'd thought Mrs. Rowlands was going to cry but she did not. She held her head high. She got what she wanted, a divorce. And as an added bonus, the judge had granted her a substantial financial settlement. They began walking again. "What are you going to do with this freedom?"

"First, I'm going to file the paperwork to officially change my name back to Maryann Caldwell then I think I'm going to take a trip, a long trip".

Kristina smiled, "Good for you". They stepped into the elevator together. "Can I give you a lift some where Maryann?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm going to my sister's, she said I could stay there until I get a place of my own". She looked over at Kristina. "I know you thought I should go after the house but I did want it. I didn't want to live with all those memories".

"I understand".

Maryann hugged her again before exiting the elevator on the first floor and she continued to the parking garage. She was happy with the outcome of the hearing, not all of them turned out this well. She celebrated each win, not for herself but for her clients. Maryann deserved everything she was awarded and she hoped that her new found freedom would bring with it happiness.

She thought about her mother again, as she stepped out of the elevator and slipped her sunglass on. Alexis Davis always carried around some sadness inside her thanks to her father and to Molly's. She had tried to get her to open up and talk about those feelings but she never would. It wasn't just her failed relationship she refused to discuss it was the other source of her unhappiness well; her childhood. Her past was a secret that she'd kept close. Once she'd mentioned Helena and her biological grandmother, Kristin Nilsson, but she caught herself and quickly changed the subject.

So many secrets surrounded the Cassadine family; secrets buried by lies. You never knew what to except so you couldn't prepare yourself. She frowned, thinking about the bracelet with Mikkos's initials on it. What did it mean that she should receive such a gift, anonymously no doubt! Once she realized what those initials had stood for, she'd taken the bracelet, thrown it back in the box, resealed it and placed it in the bottom of her hall closet.

Who had sent her the bracelet and why? A million answers popped into her head but none of them were appealing. Maybe, if the package had not come anonymously she'd feel less ominous. She shook her head, maybe not. The bracelet had taken up a considerable amount of her thoughts last night; it had been on her mind during the hearing and it was still there. What she needed to do was find out where it had come from. Maybe her mother would have an idea.

Noel caught sight of her as she walked a few feet ahead of where he was parked. Today, she wore gray and her hair was pulled back, away from her face. He was surprised to see her again, as unexpectedly as he had the first time. Perhaps, it was because he had just been thinking of her. Not of her, he corrected, but of the duty he had come to Port Charles to fulfill. Kristina Davis factored into that duty. What part she played had yet to be determined.

The task ahead of him would undoubtedly be a difficult one. Noel worried little about that. He had sworn himself to the duty that his father had been handed before him and he would see it through even if it took the last breath in his body to do so.

Yes, he was prepared for that possible outcome, had always been prepared for it. What caught him off guard, what was gnawing at him was that he was faced with an attraction that he had not anticipated. That instantaneous attraction was not one sided. He'd felt it vibrating from her, tangling with his own.

Noel frowned as his continued to watch her. He wouldn't act on it, there was no way he was going to allow that to be an option. He was there for one reason only, to discover if the Cassadine family was in possession of the blood stones and if so, to recover them. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. He'd have to make contact with her soon but the time and place was not here, now, alone together in a parking garage. Besides, he was much to wound up; if he approached her like this he might scare her off. The breath ended on a hiss as he spotted the man emerging from between two cars. He took a second deep breath, letting it out as slowly as the first but it ended on a hiss when he spotted the man emerging from between two cars.

She felt, watched. Kristina paused, sweeping the parking garage with her eyes. She saw him as he emerged from between two parked cars and descended upon her.

"I want a word with you Ms. Davis".

Her eyes went to the security camera above them then back to him. "We have nothing that we need to discuss Mr. Rowlands".

He stepped closer, "I want my wife back. You have to help me get her back".

"I can't help you with that, I'm sorry".

"She won't make without me. Maryann needs someone to take care of her. Do you have any idea what you've done by encouraging her to leave me?"

Kristina's eyes narrowed, "I didn't have to encourage her Mr. Rowlands. Your infidelity took care of that. And Maryann strikes me as a fairly capable woman, I am sure she'll be fine. No, I know she will, now that she is from underneath your thumb. Now, step aside".

His face grew red from the heat of his anger, "Bitch!" He grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her and shoved her back into her car. On impact, Kristina's briefcase slipped from her hand and hit the ground. He used the weight of his body to pin her against the car, trapping her. His face was so close that their noses almost touched. "You'll help me or I swear…"

Kristina only blinked once then Peter Rowlands was on the ground. He wasn't moving. She remained where she was, legs too shaky to risk trying to take a step.

"Are you okay?"

Kristina's head came up and she found herself looking into those same whisky colored eyes that she had yesterday. A huge lump formed in her throat. It was him, the man from Kelly's.

"Are you okay?" Noel asked again.

She nodded, "Yes". She looked back to where Peter Rowlands lay. "Is he?"

"His still breathing", he told her.

Kristina finally straightened herself. Once she was sure that she wouldn't fall, she smoothed down the front of her suit.

"Thank you", she said. She was the two police officers approaching. They would asked her to go back inside the courthouse to answer some questions when what she wanted to do was go home and forget what just happened.

Noel stood back while one of the officers handcuffed the now conscious assailant and the other officer asked Kristina questions. Next the officer spoke to him then asked that the two of them return to the courthouse.

Noel retrieved Kristina's briefcase and followed them into the elevator. The officer asked them to have a seat. Noel sat down on the bench, keeping distance between them. He placed her briefcase on the bench.

Kristina rubbed her hand over the black leather case. "I've never had one do this before", she said.

"Had one what?"

"Ex", she replied.

Noel looked over at her, "That was your ex?"

Kristina's hand paused, "No, I'm not into creeps. He is my client's ex-husband". She began to rub the case again. "I'm a divorce lawyer", she explained.

He'd already known that about her. "So, what did he want with you?"

She shrugged, "He wanted me to tell my client to take him back". Her body trembled and she set the case aside. "He wanted to hurt me and I was totally unprepared for it. If you hadn't come along, he would have. I don't know how to thank you for what you did".

"You could have dinner with me". Where had that come from? Noel was sure the thought had not been in his head.

She turned her head so that she could look at him. Their eyes locked, held each other. "I don't date", she told him. She hadn't dated anyone in a long time; two years to be exact. She hadn't wanted to.

Her answer was the perfect out for him, since he had not planned to ask her such a thing in the first place but he was far too intrigued. "I don't believe I asked you on a date".

"You asked me out to dinner", she informed him.

"No, I merely suggested that we might dine together as a way to thank me". He sat back, resting his arm along the back of the bench, "I figured you'd buy me dinner and we could call it even".

She smiled; she couldn't help herself, "You except me to buy?"

Her smiled sliced him to the bone. "It's the least you could do", he said calmly, feeling any thing but calm.

"Ms. Davis", the officer called out to her then motioned for her to follow him.

She rose, smooth down her suit and picked up her briefcase. "Okay", she said to Noel. "The Haunted Star tomorrow at 7 o'clock".

"Seven o'clock it is".

She walked away then stopped and turned around, "By the way, what's your name".

"Noel", he answered "Noel Keefer. And you?" He already knew her name.

"Kristina Davis. Seven o'clock sharp Noel Keefer. Don't be late".

He made himself comfortable waiting for his turn to be questioned about the attack. This morning when he awoke he had no solid plan on how he was going to make contact with the Cassadine family; it looked like fate had stepped in.


End file.
